


Well, That Sucked

by merelypassingtime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Crack, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: When Clint is gravely injured (according to him), Bucky lends a hand, or, more precisely, a mouth.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Well, That Sucked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CruciatusForeplay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruciatusForeplay/gifts).



> A little gift for my wonderful friend CruciatusForeplay.  
> Merry Christmas!  
> Consequently, not beta read. Sorry for any mistakes. ;)

Clint didn’t shoot with wooden arrows that often anymore, not when he had access to much more interesting options these days. Still, every now and again he got nostalgic and pulled out the old, battered quiver from his life before to reacquaint himself with genuinely paleolithic technology. 

Every time he did he quickly remembered why he used carbon fiber now, they were much lighter and stronger and flew more true. 

Plus, they had another distinct advantage over wood.

“Ouch!” he said, dropping the arrow he’d just pulled free from the target to shake out his hand.

On the lane next to his, Bucky looked up sharply from the gun he was cleaning. “Problem, Barton?”

“Splinter,” Clint said, now clutching his hand to his chest and glaring at the dropped arrow.

“Hmm,” Bucky said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know, you can’t get splinters from bullets.”

Clint flipped him off before bending down to pick up the arrow. He shoved it back into his quiver and stalked back to the firing line. Once he was in the brighter light he examined his hand.

“Aw, splinter, no,” he whined. “It’s huge and in one of my draw fingers too.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but set down his reassembled rifle and came over. Holding out his metal hand, he said, “Here, let me see. Maybe there’s still time to save the finger.”

“Asshole,” Clint replied, but he also put his hand in Bucky’s.

Bucky took his time looking at what Clint knew to be an enormous, jagged chunk of wood that was disfiguring his finger, then asked, “Which finger is it? I can’t tell.”

“The index finger!”

Bucky leaned in closer. “Oh wait, I think I see something. Is it that little red spot?”

“Yes! It’s tha-” Clint started, then cut off abruptly as Bucky bent down a little further and slipped his mouth around Clint’s finger.

Before Clint could begin to react, Bucky started sucking. Hard.

Now, Clint couldn’t recall having ever been to a church service in his life, but he suddenly saw the appeal. He was pretty sure he was having a religious experience right then and here and it was every bit as transcendent as advertised.

Bucky’s mouth was a revelation in warm, wet, and utterly right. 

Before Clint could tell him that and possibly beg him to never stop, Bucky pulled his lips off the finger with a loud pop.

Clint didn’t whimper.

Clint might have whimpered.

Clint entirely did whimper, but who could blame him?

Bucky didn’t, he ignored the whimper to look critically down at the finger, then made a little dissatisfied noise of his own before he sucked the finger in again.

Clint felt his mind leave his body at the same time all the blood in his body rushed towards his cock. Time lost all meaning, the only thing in the universe that mattered were Bucky’s soft pink lips where they were wrapped around his finger.

When Bucky pulled off the second time, Clint’s head was spinning and the only thing keeping him on his feet was a shocked inability to move.

After another examination, Bucky said in satisfaction, “There! The splinter’s gone.”

Clint stared at him blankly, he knew he did, but he still couldn’t move enough to so much as blink.

Bucky blinked though, batting his lovely lash lashes in the least convincing show of innocence in the history of mankind.

“What?” he asked. “Does it still hurt?”

It was the knowing smirk that accompanied the question that finally broke Clint’s paralysis. There was no way he was going to let Bucky win at flirting.

After clearing his throat as surreptitiously as possible, he was able to sound halfway normal as he replied, “No, I think it’s fine. Thanks.”

“Any time,” Bucky said with an even more wicked grin.

The grin sent Clint’s brain spiraling back into panic mode and without any rational thought to stop it his mouth said, “Hey, want to, um…”

He managed to stop before he actually said, ‘suck other parts of me like that? Pretty please?’ but he couldn’t think of any other way to end that sentence.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, amusement in every line of his face.

Clint cleared his throat less subtly this time before croaking, “Coffee?”

“Yeah sure, I could use something to wet my whistle right about now.”

The bastard actually winked as he said it, then he licked his lips suggestively.

Clint got stuck watching those lips again for a long, mezzmerized moment before he caught himself.

 _Oh,_ he thought to himself, _So that’s the way the game is gonna be played._ Just for that Clint was totally going to make sure whatever he ordered came with a straw so he could fight back with a display of his own.

He already had the feeling this was a game he was going to enjoy every minute of losing.


End file.
